


Cataclysm - The Crimson Storm

by Alitaher003



Series: The Cataclysm Series [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Blood, Blood Drinking, Dave | Technoblade and Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, Death, Dream Team SMP Spoilers, Hybrid? Technoblade, Post-Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade hears voices, Technoblade is a Monster, hybrid Fundy, hybrid quackity, the voices are gone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:14:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27835867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alitaher003/pseuds/Alitaher003
Summary: After the war, after the explosion, L'Manberg receives a storm the likes of which it has never seen before. Not only that, but the storm is red, the lightning crimson, and this bloody zombie piglin won't leave them alone. Niki, Puffy, and Ranboo are missing, Dream and his allies don't want anything to do with this, it is up to Tubbo and his friends to get to the bottom of this. To stop the storm, they must travel to its origin. However, there is one.. thing, who refuses to die, and who is hunting for them, wishing for their extinction.Will Tubbo, Tommy, Quackity, Fundy, Karl, Connor, Phil, and the recently revived Schlatt be able to get to the bottom of this? Who stands in their way? Are they the last ones standing? Can they defeat the one they once held in the highest esteem? Find out all of this, and more, in the first installment of the Cataclysm series, "The Crimson Storm"
Series: The Cataclysm Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2037451
Comments: 7
Kudos: 74





	1. Red Skies

The skies above L'Manberg were dark, thunder cracking overhead. If one was to look up, they would see nothing but the pitch darkness of the unnatural storm clouds overhead. Every so often, they would lighten up a smidge from the crimson lightning that would split the clouds apart, only to have more show up.

Tubbo looked up from his house, build above the crater in the middle of L'Manberg, to the red skies, before looking back to his friends. Tommy, Quackity, Fundy and Karl, his cabinet, were all in the building with him. Quackity would flinch at every thunderstrike, and Fundy would try to soothe him, gently rubbing his back, careful not to touch the scarred wings poking out of it. 

“I don’t like this. The storm’s not natural, the animals are acting wildly, the sea is churning, and we lost contact with Niki and Ranboo, all of which are not good signs.” Tubbo muttered, looking at Tommy. “Any ideas?”

“Don’t look at me Tubbo, I promise you I had nothing to do with this, for once.”

Karl spoke up, the first time since they gathered up. “It’s Technoblade. He’s coming.” Tommy was onto him in an instant, eyes wide.

“Don’t say his name, why would you think it's him? We don’t talk about him here, not anymore!” Tommy whisper-shouted, running from Karl to the window, looking out as lightning struck the sea, a crimson strike the size of a tree parting the waters, pouring energy for a full second, before dissipating with another flash. “Oh fuck, Karl just might be right. How do you know this?” He turned back, looking at Karl.  
“When.. right before the storm started, I was heading to my farm, where I keep all my animals... And every single one was dead. The cows, the horses, the sheep, the chickens, even the pigs. Then, lightning struck one of the pig’s body, and a zombie piglin rose from the corpse, and he looked at me. I’ll never forget the haunting dead eyes, nor the raspy voice that came out. It was like a demon from The Nether was speaking to me.. It said.. Oh god.. We’re so fu-hu-hucked...”

Karl started to cry, breaking down from the stress, and Tommy did not help by shaking him, shouting for him to finish. Fundy had to pry him off, telling Tommy to calm down, while Quackity tried to reassure Karl. Looking back outside, Tubbo froze, noticing that behind one of the stands, a zombie piglin stared back at him, holding a golden sword in one hand, and a black skull in the other. Tubbo stared at it as long as he could, before blinking, and finding it one stall closer. He screamed, falling backward, crawling onto the floor, eventually hitting his back against the wall.

At that exact moment, a boom of thunder cracked overhead, the door of the building was slammed open, and red lightning flashed, showing the silhouette of a half-dead man at the door. The cabinet screamed, with Tubbo and Karl screaming the loudest, Quackity’s wings flaring and flailing, Fundy throwing a cup at the intruder, and Tommy hopping behind a desk and coming out with a crossbow, firing it at the intruder. The bolt whizzed past the head of the figure, who collapsed on the spot anyway.

To the shock of all present, it was a pale and wheezing Schlatt, followed by a whimpering Connor and a shellshocked Philza. “Don’t shoot, we need refuge.”

“WHY IS SCHLATT STILL ALIVE? PHILZA!?!” Tommy yelled, the blond child jumping on the desk, aiming the crossbow at a struggling Schlatt, Phil trying to get him up. “Because he’s currently just as much of a victim as anyone here. He already died, he paid for his sins, he wants a new start. Also, can we get a proper fire going in here? Connor is freezing, and I don’t want him to catch a cold.” Phil ordered, with Fundy going up the stairs to fetch a blanket, and Karl slowly picking himself off of the ground to start a fire. Quackity moved to help Schlatt walk, placing a wing on his back and taking the former dictator’s arm on his shoulders, leading him further in.

“Is it because of Technoblade that..” the sentence went unfinished, but Phil nodded, looking back out to the marketplace, where the undead piglin still stood, now wearing leather armor dyed red, as well as having worn the skull on its head.  
“You see it, Tubbo? If you see it, it means he already knows where you are. He’s coming. Dream told me that he doesn’t want to get involved with Technoblade, not after what he saw him do to survive in the frozen wasteland he found.” Phil swore under his breath as the piglin shambled closer, sword on his back, walking and stumbling up the stairs until it knocked on the door. Phil went to open it, but Tommy barred his way. 

“I heard what you said, and if you open that door, whatever ‘it’ is could kill us all. Karl saw it, and he can barely think without shaking. Tubbo screamed when he blinked after looking at it. If it enters this house, I’m dealing the first and final blow, Phil.” The blond said, looking up at his father’s face. At that moment, Phil looked so old, so tired. “It’s not coming in, it just wants to talk. To which one of us, I don’t know, but I promise you it's not coming in.”

And with that, Phil opened the door.


	2. My Name is Dread

The piglin stood, its decaying skin hidden under the red hide armor it wore, the only thing distinguishing it from a normal player is the shape of the black skull it wore. Instead of a normal wither skull, it was a boar’s skull charred black, with teeth and tusks somehow white as snow. 

The moment Philza opened the door, the lower jaw unhinged and started singing. It went from a high pitched shriek to a low rumbling voice, from a human child speaking to a demon shouting in the Old Tongues, and finally settled on a voice that mimicked a woman, a child, and a man all speaking at once. 

“ _With this body carved from lightning,_

_We come to your doorstep._

_Our spirits within host most uninviting,_

_A message that none will soon forget._

**_THIS STORM OF RED, OF CRIMSON BLOOD,_ **

**_THE SKIES THAT PART, AN UNENDING FLOOD._ **

**_YOU SEEK ME OUT, TO YOUR DESPAIR,_ **

**_THE ONE YOU LOVED IS NOT OUT THERE!_ **

**_THIS STORM OF FIRE, OF BROKEN BONES,_ **

**_THE SKIES DESCEND, UPON YOUR HOMES._ **

**_TO SEEK ME OUT, THE SNOW AND ICE_ ** **_,_ **

**_TWELVE SURVIVORS, ONE SACRIFICE!!_ **”

As the voices reached the end, the sockets started to bleed, Philza reaching a shaking hand to the creature. The instant his fingertips touched the skull, the piglin withered away, leaving the skull and a cloak. Picking the skull up properly, Phil noted an inscription on the inside of it.

“ _To wear me is folly,_

_though I tell quite a story._

_A crimson cloak to accompany me,_

_under threat of becoming history._

_The tale I tell is yet to come,_

_prevent it soon or be undone._

_I laugh and sing, I cry and weep,_

_for the piglin king, in his lonely keep._ ”

“Philza, throw that thing away! In fact..” Tommy reached for the cloak with the intent of discarding it over the small bridge that separated the house from the marketplace, but a loud “NO!” and a frantic arm stopped him from doing just that. Pushing his child back inside and locking the door behind both of them, Phil moved on autopilot towards the fireplace, until he collapsed in an armchair, the skull in his lap, one arm holding the cloak Tommy had, and the other resting on his face, hiding his tears from the room, although his choked sobs could be heard.

“Dad?” Tubbo asked, looking up at him, having sat down on the carpet after hearing the poem, standing up to comfort his crying father. “Don’t cry, we’re here for you. We’ll go find him and bring him to his senses, alright Dad?” Tommy said, both him and his adopted brother hugging their father as he shook, tears streaming down his face. The other looked on in sympathy, except for Schlatt, who sat staring at the fireplace, flames dancing in his eyes.

“Say.. Phil. Do you guys need any help in your expedition?” The horned man asked, not looking away from the fire. “I want to help you as you helped me, Philza. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you, and while most of our-my memories aren’t quite as they should be, I feel like I should atone for what I did..” He said, finally looking away from the burning coals, facing his savior who looked at him with a small amount of pride. Everyone else in the room looked at the half-satyr, shocked at how different he was from the Schlatt they experienced. 

“I... I guess we need all the help we can get, Schlatt. Welcome aboard.” Phil said, standing up, skull in one hand, extending the other to get the former president of L’Manberg up. Tubbo looked at his friends, taking in each of their amazed expressions.

“Are you guys in too? Or are you going to make us deal with Schlatt by ourselves?” he joked, getting smiles and chuckles for the first time since the storm hit L’Manberg. It started with Fundy, the fox-man standing up, stating “I’m not willing to die before getting married. Even if my fiancee doesn’t want any part in this, I’m sure I can talk him into helping us a smidge.”

Quackity was next. “Karl and I will talk to Sapnap, see what he can do. Rutabagville might be part of L’Manberg now, but I think we still have a hidden weapon or two in the mountains.” Karl agreed, mentioning something to do with a previous encounter, one Quackity was quick to shut him up about.

“I don’t have much to bring, but I can be a decent messenger..” Connor said, pulling his Sonic hoodie over his head, earning another round of chuckles. “Gotta go fast!” he chortled, smiling.

“Seems like it’s settled. We meet at the port in three days. Talk to your allies, gather supplies, get your secret weapons. We’re going to stop this storm, talk sense into the dumbass that we call brother, and come back to PARTY! Let’s go!!” Tommy yelled, the blond child jumping into the air, followed by cheers and hoots.

For a group with a long series of distrust, doubt, uncertainty, and fear, this might’ve been the first time that they all were happy together.

“ _Follow your dreams, the skull sang, for they lead you to your destiny._

_But beware the false queen, her eyes green with jealousy._

_A crimson storm to get us going,_

_a narrator for the quest ahead._

_I am the skull, my lyrics flowing,_

_I am the hog, my name is Dread."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The skull companion will stay with them for most of the story. There might be art regarding it and its poems.  
> Also, if you have any critisisms or if you liked the story, leave a comment for me! I hope you enjoyed this!


	3. Broken Ship, Broken Heart

“I still don’t like those items, Phil. Why did you want to keep them so badly? I mean, look at this skull! It’s like a wither’s, but the teeth are too clean. There’s something wrong with it, clearly, and I do not trust it.” Tommy said, poking at the black skull with a stick, while Phil and Tubbo were busy stacking bread and dried meat into bags, and then placing those bags neatly into chests. So far, they had filled two, but the journey ahead of them was going to be tough, so they needed as much food as they could afford.

“It sang. Not the zombie piglin, although that was probably how it was so loud and strong. The skull itself sang. It will help us on the journey, but we’ll have to wear the cloak with it. Otherwise, we’ll ‘become history’, as the poem in the back said.” Phil replied, handing Tubbo the last of the food in the pantry. No one was going to come here for a long time anyway, so might as well take all the food.

Their party was divided into four groups for the next three days. Karl and Quackity were talking to Sapnap, and then hopefully with him in tow, dig up their weapons in the mountains. Fundy was communicating with his fiance, with hopes of some aid in the quest ahead. Best case scenario, we get the backing of the entire Dream SMP faction. Worst case scenario according to Fundy is not too much help, but what they can spare. The fox’s worst-case scenario was not like Philza’s, who doubted that Dream would bulge on the matter.

Next up was Philza himself and his two sons, Tubbo and Tommy. They were in charge of food and overall supplies. Deciding that food would be the most pressing issue, they already started to work on it, and having talked with everyone else, had gotten permission to go into their homes and workplaces to acquire the needed materials. If the mission was a success, they’d have back what was left, and all would be good. If it wasn’t, Phil wasn’t sure there would be anything left. The storm hadn’t been there for longer than a day, and already all farms, both plants, and animals had died or withered to nothing. There were signs that, if the storm would persist for too long, buildings and people would be affected. Phil sighed, closing the chest after Tubbo had placed the final bag into it, before pulling out a list. Two chests from the main house, check. One chest per personal home from Tommy, Karl, Quackity, Connor, and Fundy, three from the bakery, another chest from the ice cream shop, and the leftovers from the Festival, and another two from Schlatt’s bunker. Thirteen chests in total. It made him think back to what he heard from the zombie piglin. ‘ **_TWELVE SURVIVORS, ONE SACRIFICE!!_ **’. It still made his skin crawl whenever he thought about it, the whole poem in fact. He stuffed the list into his pocket, grabbing a chest and moving it next to the door.

“What is Schlatt doing again?”

* * *

Johnathan Schlatt, the former dictator of Manberg, was currently repairing something he designed with his former advisors. ‘A surefire way to never have to swim again, ever.’ A ship. Not a boat, something only two people could ride. A proper ship, with sails and storage and bedchambers and a wheel and even cannons. A ship that had fallen into disrepair, with a rotten deck, rusty cannons, tattered sails, broken windows, and looked more like a ghost ship or a sunken wreck than an actual vessel. Luckily for Schlatt, Connor was tasked to stay with him and help, and so, the task had begun. Connor’s speed was useful, not just for messages, but for cutting down trees and carrying them from the logging camp behind Manberg, through the tunnel system carved by Tommy, and into the cavern where the ship rested. The exhausting task of chopping trees and carrying them was made trivial with an overactive man with a penchant for speed, and thus, the tasks were made simpler.

Schlatt and Connor’s Shipbuilding Plan.

Step One: Gather logs, sand, and iron ore from the wild. Get wool, string, and leathers from the various homes.

Step Two: Turn logs into planks, sand to glass, and iron into cannons, ammunition, and an anchor.

Step Three: Replace the ship, plank by plank, and repair what can’t be replaced. Sew the sails with leather and string. Fix the windows, scrap the old cannons, make sure the ship works properly.

Step Four: Take it out of the cavern and towards the docks, to start loading up.

Step Five: Get stuff for the kitchen, bedrooms, and living area. Tables, chairs, beds, utensils, torches and candles, lanterns, maybe carpets if we have time?

Step Six: Sail out to Rutabagville’s mountain base to load up the weapon and pick up the friends.

Step Seven: Sail out towards the frozen lands.

It was a decent plan, and by the looks of things, they’ll be done with the first two by the next day. Schlatt already had started, turning logs to planks, and replacing the exterior as well as the keel, fixing as much as he could. It had to be as good as he could make it because everyone depended on him.

* * *

At the end of the day, Tubbo, Tommy, Connor, Schlatt, and Phil all met up in Wilbur’s home to eat and talk about how much they got ahead and plan for tomorrow. They enjoyed chicken cooked by Phil, as well as berries and plants from outside the storm, courtesy of Connor and Schlatt. “Enjoy the plants, tomorrow there won’t be a single edible fruit or vegetable that we can reach without having to walk for a whole day. The storm keeps getting worse, and now with the weird red rain, I really don’t want to go out unless we have to. Connor and I finished collecting all the materials we need for the repairs, expect the ship to arrive by tomorrow at midnight, if not in the early morning the next day.”

Phil took a bite of chicken, before answering the satyr hybrid. “Sounds good, by tomorrow we’ll have all of the food at the docks ready to be hauled in, and we’ll start getting the furniture in one place to get it onto the ship.” Connor was silent, eating rapidly since today took a lot out of him. Tubbo was quietly sipping a glass of milk as silence returned for about five seconds, after which Tommy shattered it.

“Why are we loading so much onto the ship? It’s not like we’re going to be gone forever... How long will it take us, anyway? Two days? A week at most?”

“Tommy,” Tubbo sighed, “Just to get out of Manberg’s coast proper, it’ll take us half a day. We have to cross an entire ocean, and about halfway there, we’ll have to start fighting with huge sea creatures and avoid icebergs, not to mention the freezing cold. I don’t know why Technoblade chose to live out there all alone, but if it’s to make it harder for someone to get to him, he couldn’t have chosen a better place. No creature, sane or not, would go there willingly. Hell, I’ve heard some captured pillagers prefer death by zombies instead of having to be exiled there.”

Everyone at the table shuddered, zombies didn’t hit that hard, but their preference to mob you and start eating chunks out of you while you still lived. It was a horrifying sight, and it would take weeks of non-magical healing to get you back to a proper shape if you managed to escape a mob of them.

Phil took over Tubbo’s speech after that comment. “Tommy, you’ve been to The Nether, right? Remember the feeling that you might just melt out of your boots, the reason why wearing gold or netherite is better than diamond or iron? It’s because of the heat. It’s so hot in The Nether that the creatures there have evolved to survive in there, and while gold reacts to the magic in there, making you seem that you are a native to the dimension, netherite cools you off, so you don’t feel it.

We have NOTHING like that for the cold. We’re actually grabbing any furs, wools, and leathers from everything, the stands outside, the carpets, anywhere we can take it to make the rooms of the ship and our netherite armor cold-proof. Even then, we’ll barely survive out there, and we’ll be slowed from the extra weight. I would take going to The Nether a hundred times in full iron than live one week in the Frozen Lands.

It’s worse than hell, and we have to stay there for around two months minimum, even if we land, find him in a week, and take him back on the day we find him.” Phil said, snapping out of his rant to find himself looming over the table, almost nose-to-nose with Tommy, who had the decency to look terrified.

Phil looked around, Connor was looking away, Schlatt was still eating with sunken eyes, and Tubbo was just as scared as Tommy because even with his previous speech, he still had no idea how deadly and awful The Frozen Lands were. 

And there he was, bringing his children straight into it. He was a horrible father. He dealt the killing blow to Wilbur, _‘It was never meant to be..’_ holding him in his arms even as he bled out, sobbing. _‘My L’Manberg, my great unfinished symphony, forever unfinished!! If I can’t have it, no one can…’_

Technoblade had gotten betrayed by his own family, _‘You want to be a hero Tommy? Then DIE LIKE ONE!!’_ and Phil was now witnessing how far it had truly damaged him. The rain splattering against the window, red droplets falling to form a shape similar to the head of a pig until a strong gust of wind blew it away.

And now, already having lost the elders, he was leading Tubbo and Tommy, the last of his children, the ones he managed to protect the most from this cruel world, and he was ferrying them right into the gate of hell. He felt like a horrible father. He left brusquely, a half-eaten chicken leg in his plate, and went to sit alone, near the fireplace.

* * *

“ _Father of three, father of four,_

_Father who believes he has nothing more._

_Father of none, father of all,_

_Father pick me up, witness, and bawl._ ”

Phil was roused from his sleep, finding himself still on the couch, but the clock indicating that it was well past midnight. He looked at the burning fireplace, which was still going thanks to the netherrack underneath. Everyone else was done eating, and probably sleeping in the many rooms of this house by now. Phil looked at the skull, sitting on the table in the middle of the room, barely illuminated by the fireplace even though it was not three feet away from it. He got up, making sure to have the red cloak secured around his neck, before taking off his striped green and white hat.

Phil then placed the skull on his head, and everything turned black.


	4. I Dream of Frost and Death

“ _Behold my work, my poems, my visions,_

_Bear witness to the sights through empty eyes._

_Hear what you must, come to your own decisions,_

_Believe what you want, know I speak no lies._ ”

Eyes opening with a gasp, Philza noticed he was laying down. A dark, endless abyss sprawled out in front of him, a dark void, with only a light gray horizon to separate ground and sky. He blinked, and the charred skull, Dread if he recalled correctly, floated ominously in front of him, eyes emitting a light fog. The jaw opened, and the voice came back.

“ _A sea-faring journey within the week,_

_Dangerous enemies, you will seek._

_Listen to the poem of Dread,_

_You might just get to keep your head._ ”

Phil nodded, not trusting himself to speak currently. The skull turned around, water rushing into the void, the smell of saltwater hit Phil’s nostrils, and as he stumbled back, he found himself on a ship, riding tempestuous waves as crimson skies thundered overhead. The skull came to him as he held onto the railing of the ship, icebergs floating past, a cold, dead land up ahead.

“ _A simple storm is easy-going,_

_This crimson one is quite a threat._

_The wastes you seem to be going,_

_Be careful now, they spell your death._

_With wool and cloth you arm your vessel,_

_To survive a frigid journey._

_The storm you anger, the waves you wrestle,_

_Your trip might end in a gurney._

_This skull imparts words of wisdom,_

_Upon you tired weary few._

_Stay alert, for one, yet stay calm,_

_The seas want to beat you black and blue._

_A wall of ice shall bar your path,_

_Surrender fifth of your precious stew._

_Heed my words, avoid its wrath,_

_Lest you bid your life adieu._ ”

Four verses were sung by Dread, each changing the scene Phil found himself a part of. The first one revealed to him the cold unforgiving lands of the north. The second one shifted to an outsider’s view of him, Tommy, Tubbo, Connor, and Schlatt, making sure the ship was insulated. The third sent him spiraling into the ocean, large waves attempting to pummel the ship into splinters, a demonic laugh accompanying red lightning and booming thunder. The final verse showed a wall, endless in both width and height. The ship tried to go through and was promptly turned into driftwood, sails shredding from the force of freezing gales, his friends getting thrown into the ocean, never to be seen again, until only he remained.

* * *

The wall loomed over him, and he heard whispers through the winds as he stood on the mast of a sinking ship, pickaxe in one hand, a bowl of soup in the other. He didn’t feel the biting cold, or maybe he was already too numb. Ice cracked, jagged fangs parting to reveal Technoblade’s body, purple and coated with a thick sheet of ice. His head was turned, staring at him with glazed dead eyes, his crown lopsided. Phil gasped, dropping the pickaxe, reaching out with his hand to the seemingly dead body. It was so close, felt so real... The soup sloshed, some of it falling out of the bowl, and into the sea.

A creaking sound was heard, the left arm of the piglin rising, ice cracking and falling off. It reached out for a second, before being brought back towards the frozen body. As the purple fist slowly clenched, the rest of the ice cracked and fell away, letting the frozen corpse rise out of its seat. A chuckle emanated from the mouth of the ice wall, and a tongue was extended, allowing hooves to step onto it, towards Philza.

“Techno? Can you hear me?” Phil tentatively asked, stepping towards his son. Or at least, he tried to, looking down to find his legs coated with a heavy layer of ice. He looked back to find Techno right in his face, grey eyes staring into blue ones. A snort, the only hot air for miles around, and the piglin turned around, a trident rising from the sea into his waiting hand. Technoblade turned around once more, facing Philza, and for a split second, Phil swore he saw his son’s natural crimson eyes instead of the currently grey ones. The jaw moved, but no sound came out of Technoblade’s mouth, only a rasp. A blink and they were face-to-snout, the trident piercing Phil’s torso, two of the prongs poking out of his back, the third lodged in his heart. As his vision faded to black, Phil managed to hear a whisper.

“This quest... It will be your end.”

And a much fainter one.

  
“ _Please, turn back._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took me a while to get back into it, but here we are!  
> I had written poems for this story, but I have misplaced them, so I had to reimagine new ones.  
> Leave any comments if you enjoyed this, and the next chapter will come out soon. (I hope.)


End file.
